The Second Coming of Lt. Dangle

I’ve mentioned this before but Halloween of 2015 I was insanely drunk, and in much need of a thorough dicking. This 20 year old boy I’d been casually talking to on Tinder just happened to be available at the right (wrong?) moment to make it happen. He came over, in Lt. Dangle uniform COMPLETE WITH THE SHORT SHORTS, and fucked me silly. It’s all very fuzzy. He was drunk, too. Hooray! Sloppy sex for both of us! On his way out the door he looked back at me, in the uniform mind you, and said “tell your friends,” before walking out and closing the door behind him. Uh… this is literally one of all time favorite hook up stories. He’s blond, attractive, taller than average, and can go the distance. This kid was built to fuck. Recently we got back in touch and have been meaning to go another round ever since. He follows my snap chat. Anyway… last night was the night apparently. My gay husband Sweet Pea has moved away to Georgia so I was bemoaning on Snap Chat his departure, and Lt. Dangle (which is his name in my phone, forever,) offered to take his place. Clearly not understanding Sweet Pea is gayer than gay and we had a non-sexual relationship. He backpedaled immediately, it was adorable. He’s mentioned before if and when we see each other again, I’m not allowed to continuously yell “20!?” and cackle every time I orgasm. What can I say, I make for great memories. I’d fuck me.

Upon his arrival he sits next to me on the couch and says he kind of expected me to be naked already. I don’t understand. He goes on to explain “…like last time.” See, drunk me is very direct. *dramatic flashback: I answered the door in a robe, sprinted back to the bed (I imagine I was giggling,) and sprawled out nekkid- apparently I initiated sex by reaching over and grabbing his dick. Aren’t I romantic? This time is different. I’m sober, painfully so as it is No Sauce September, and I kind of want to know more about this kid before he bangs me like a drum again. So we catch up. I’m digging what he’s putting down. He’s funny, confident in the right ways, and comes from the background of having been exceptionally awkward up until college. We get a lot of chuckles at how so called “alpha males” are terrible in bed and mostly just peacock to other men to compensate for such. I like men like this. Dare I say, he recognizes that women are people? Actual people? Swoon. He’s got a naturally thin body, fucker, and a well grounded personality. We must’ve talked for an hour or better, it was thrilling explaining the in’s-and-out’s of what goes on behind the curtain in my life regarding my conquests. He kind of knew about my shenanigans. What can I say, there’s only so much I’ll say on here until the statute of limitations runs out. He calls me savage and I can only chuckle he has no idea. (If I’ve never made my position on cheaters clear, I hate them- if I find out a man deceived me about his relationship status, you better believe I’m comin’ for that motherfucker. I’ll tell ya wife. I’ll tell ya parents. I’ll tell her parents. Oh, you offered to fuck me at your job, on the clock? Well your manager now has the screen shots. Go fuck yourself with something hard and sandpapery. I do not appreciate being involved in someone else’s infidelity. And if he makes the grave mistake of denying it, calling me a liar, or CRAZY… honey child, my anger has no end. I’ll make flyers and post them all over town. Do. Not. Tempt. Me. Take your licks, tuck your tail, and fuck right off.)

The time has come, I’m done with chit chatting. He won’t make the move, but I can tell he’s down to get down. I take him to the bedroom. He remembers my bed being tall, but it’s 6 inches taller now with the added toppers. Get in, you’ll never get out. It’s basically a giant pillow made of narcolepsy and lazy. Something something something, we’re making out. I’m on top. He’s putting his hands up into my braided hair to the scalp, and pulling. It hurts. The good and not-good kind. He’s sucking on my nipple rings, hard. Oh… oh you get aggressive? I don’t remember this, but I am a fan. He bites my lip. His hands are grabbing me, pulling me, YESSSSSSSSSSS. I like this. 21 and he’s got more skill in the bedroom than dudes with three times his experience. Color me impressed, but he did mention before some people are just naturally good in bed, while others have to work at it to get better. Clearly he’s column A. I don’t doubt it, honestly.

There’s this really funny moment where he is seemingly confused by how to put a condom on and I cannot stop grinning like the Cheshire cat. He asks if I’m going to put this in my blog… no, never. You’s a big boy, of course you know which way to roll on a rubber. 😉 Condom on, I mount up. True story, my hazy memory from the night we drunkenly smashed genitals together I remember distinctly thinking he was well above average in the hung department. Nope! Drunk me apparently gives extra credit, but maybe that’s necessary because I’m a fucking handful to deal with and you need some kind of gold star to put up with me. Anyway, he’s average. Average is my jam, I LOVE average. You know why? Because I can fuck it all night and not get a bruised cervix. My business doesn’t hurt. Bring it on! The second he’s inside me and I’m working my pelvic sorcery, I can feel a climax coming. I try to push it back a bit, hold on I’m not ready that’s embarrassing! No dice. I cum fairly quickly. He giggles, already? SHUT UP, RICKY BOBBY. I just wanna go fast, too. I get another one, maybe two, and my legs start doing the thing where they don’t want to cooperate. I need him to take over until they come back to Earth. I tell him to get behind me. He does. He fucks like a professional. So much so the condom broke. Woops. Whateva, good thing I own stock in Trojan amiright? There’s literally a box by my bed filled with an assortment of brands, textures, and sizes. Anything you can think of. Someday I’ll be just famous enough to get free things from dildo distributors and condom manufacturers. That’s when we know I’ve made it, guys. Dream big.

He wants me to roll over for this next bit, alrighty. Fuck me sideways, this is really fun. He’s putting in the work and I can tell he needs a bit of a break. Let’s take one. Chit chat some more, he’s entertaining. I like that he gets laid fairly regularly; smart, nerdy dudes should. They’re better at it. At one point while we were going at it and I was getting really into it, he giggled. I’m gonna go ahead and assume my sex face was awesome. (Don’t look directly at it or this happens.) Maybe he was just amused at how easy I am to get off- shocker, I can do that all day and all night. Let’s do some cardio, lover! Clearly I just mean you. Maybe it was chuckling at my orgasms in general. We went a couple more rounds, burning through about 4 or 5 condoms (like you’re supposed to do if you use them properly, just pointing that out.) Did I scream his name while I climaxed? That’s a dangerous game with memory issues. At one point I gifted him my glorious head and hands, which he was completely silent for. I am not a fan. But I apparently got him close twice… he didn’t say a word, I just needed to switch it up. Don’t you dare cum in my mouth with giving me a warning, I have killed for less. He doesn’t really make any noise during sex, which makes me somewhat self conscious about how loud I am. I mean, all I can say after a certain point is four letter words in a 4 octave range. You’re welcome for the tinnitus.

We’re naked, sweaty, spent, he never got off. Oh what a problem to have! He did get off twice when we hooked up a year ago, but I guess this is a thing for him. We’re yawning, it’s obviously turning into sleepy time. You gots’ta go, homie. I told him I might need his help editing his entry because if I sleep before writing I lose a lot of the details. He misunderstood and thought I meant “stick around while I write this thing, and help me out.” No, no, no. Get out. I’m actually not keen on boys sleeping over anymore. I used to be all about it, now I’m definitely enjoying owning all the bed, all the time, no timeshare. I go turn off the music I’ve had playing this whole time (EDM on the Music Channel. Oh hey, do you want music to fuck to? Here ya go.)

He insisted on the name of his entry being The Second Coming of Lt. Dangle. Boy, if you wear that uniform again I’ll probably agree to anything. He mentions he might’ve left his aviators the last time he was here… I have now decided to create a ‘Lost & Found’ box. I drain their life-force and they forget things. Or they’re in such a hurry to get as far away from me as possible before I change my mind about eating them, they just abandon anything holding them back. Maybe I collect it all together as trophies and roll around on top of it like a slutty Smaug. Mind ya business. He’s been added to the Bomb Dick Referral List for ladies in my social circles to enjoy discretely. I hoe this hard for all of us. I’m taking one (RE: all) for the team. I dunno who’s on my team exactly, but I work very hard for us. You’re welcome. I’m doing the Lord’s work.

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DD Fnord

I left my cheating spouse September of 2015. In October of that year, I filed for divorce and set out to move on and reclaim my lost libido. I spent 8 years of my 20's faithful to two unfaithful men, I have so much time to make up for! All The Dicks is my journey having sex with whoever I want, whenever I want, however I want. The first person I spent the night with after my husband, reignited the spark and desire I thought I would need counseling to retrieve. The second person I was with sealed the deal. I wasn't broken, I just needed a tune up. This collection of encounters are the ones worth re-telling- I don't write about every sexual encounter I have, and I certainly don't bother with any that were sub-par. The screenshots are my own personal wall of shame, but also my trophies because nobody puts baby in a corner.
View all posts by DD Fnord